Sorry, [Fugo murmurs even though, for once, he's not all that sorry about letting his thoughts spill out of his head and into the air between them. Meanwhile, his hand drifts down to Giorno's chin and carefully tilts it up and to the side; because he's already told Giorno to hold him and not let go, he can't exactly pull back and readjust so he can have better access to Giorno's neck. He hesitates, just for a moment, before resuming his slow, meandering path of kisses down Giorno's throat, across the crook of his neck, and onto the slope of his shoulder.] I just wanted you to know.
[In some small way, using clumsy words, how beautiful he is; how much he's loved; and how, even though it's just as terrifying, happy Fugo is about their thing that has all sorts of convenient words to describe it. Together, dating, boyfriends. It's all social shorthand, blunt and imprecise, but it gets the message across to people who probably won't ever understand.]
You'll probably get revenge on me sooner rather than later anyway. You always do.
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[In some small way, using clumsy words, how beautiful he is; how much he's loved; and how, even though it's just as terrifying, happy Fugo is about their thing that has all sorts of convenient words to describe it. Together, dating, boyfriends. It's all social shorthand, blunt and imprecise, but it gets the message across to people who probably won't ever understand.]
You'll probably get revenge on me sooner rather than later anyway. You always do.